Before anyone reading this who happens to be associated with the Mormon Church decides to take me to task for slandering the church, let me assure the reader that here, again, we have nothing more than a dramatization of historical events. For some years, the Mormons under Joseph Smith and Brigham Young had been severely persecuted, and they'd migrated West to Utah, as is well-known. During much of Young's tenure as head of the church, the Mormons permitted no authority from the Federal government in their territory; representatives of the United States were either assassinated or driven out. In 1857, the Federal government decided to send in troops to enforce its jurisdiction, and the Mormons prepared for war. At this inopportune time, the Fancher wagon train, on its way to California, passed through Mormon country. The Mormons, in a defensive frenzy, convinced themselves the train consisted of spies and invaders and eventually decided to kill them all. At a place called Mountain Meadows they did so, sparing only those infants not yet able to speak. Later, the main character in this story, John Lee, was executed by a firing squad for murder. Brigham Young's involvement is still a matter of debate.
Much of the background here was taken from Massacres of the Mountains
, by J.P. Dunn (New York: Capricorn Books, 1969)
The field at Mountain Meadows was strewn with bodies; the men from the wagon train were already all dead, and the Mormon militiamen who'd done this work were, for the most part, standing by while their Piute allies went about completing the task they'd set for themselves, the complete extermination of the members of the Fancher wagon train-- the people they'd been told were the advance guard of a wholesale invasion of Utah by non-Mormons. The majority of the Mormons, fearful of "shedding innocent blood"--the blood of the women and especially of the children not yet of the age of consent--had been reluctant to participate in this. But their leader, John Lee, had shown no such compunctions. Near the beginning of the slaughter he'd been seen to shoot a woman off the seat of her wagon, and now, as some of his men watched, he walked with purposeful stride toward a young woman who knelt, her hands clasped as if in prayer and her face pressed hard against them, by the wheel of one of the wagons.
She barely glanced up as he came close. "Are you praying, my dear?" he asked her in a voice that sounded kindly.
"Yes," she whispered back. "Yes... praying for my life. Please, I don't want to die..." She did look up then, her eyes pleading. She was blonde, quite pretty.
Lee walked around behind her. "Finish your prayers," he instructed.
With a choked sob, she again hid her face and she began muttering into her clasped hands. Finally, she fell silent. As soon as she did, Lee grabbed the collar of her gingham dress and her underslip together, ripping them both open, exposing the whole of her bare back, as far down as her buttocks. She made no protest, she merely shuddered and sobbed loudly. Unmoved, Lee then seized her chin, holding her head, and plunged his thick-bladed knife into her back, pushing her chest forward but driving it deep between her ribs. She spasmed violently in his grip, her eyes and mouth flying wide open. Holding her tightly, Lee drew the knife partially out and drove it deep again. Blood flowed freely down her back, staining her torn dress and painting Lee's hand and his knife bright red.
She relaxed in his grip; her eyes were blinking rapidly as a trickle of blood ran from her mouth. He let go of her chin and, wrapping his arm around her chest, worked the knife back and forth a few times. Her only reaction was a pained expression. She seemed to be trying to turn her head to look at him, but then she suddenly went totally limp in his grasp. He let her go; she sank to the ground slowly.
Gray Hatchet, one of the Piute chiefs, was standing nearby. "Our people," he told Lee, "need clothes. No use to tear them. No use to stain them."
Lee looked at him for a moment, then nodded. "Take them, then," he answered. "These people won't have any use for them anymore."
Gray Hatchet nodded, then trotted off while Lee looked around to see if he could find another victim. A few dozen yards away, a group of Piute warriors had dragged another of the younger women from a wagon. Gray Hatchet went up to them and spoke to them; they then began removing the clothing from the wildly struggling and screaming girl. Although she fought them every inch of the way, they managed to strip her naked. As Lee approached the group, she knelt down on the ground, sobbing, keeping her legs close together and covering her ample breasts with her arms.
If he meant to kill her himself, he didn't get there in time. Two of the Piutes jerked her to her feet and pinned her arms behind her; she let out an ear-splitting cry when one of the others aimed his lance at her.
Her cries accomplished nothing. The grinning warrior drove the lance in just below her navel, burying four inches of the iron head in her belly. She gave a loud grunt, then looked down at it in amazement as her blood started spurting out. The Indian ground it in a little deeper, then jerked it out. For an instant he stared at her; then he snatched off his loincloth, revealing a raging erection. He lunged toward the girl, pushing her legs apart, and shoved it against her vagina. There was enough life left in her that she tried to fight against this, and one of the Indians holding her responded by drawing a knife from his belt and stabbing her savagely in her side, under her breast. She sagged; the Piute shoved his erection in and, with a wild cry, bucked his hips back and forth rapidly. He watched while the Indian raped the dying girl; when it was over, it seemed that no one was left alive on the field.
But Major Higbee, the Mormon militia commander who'd given the order to begin the massacre, came up to him and reported that two young girls were missing from the dead, and that one of his men had told him he'd seen them running toward a ravine some fifty yards distant. With Gray Hatchet and one of his warriors at his side, Lee hurried over to the ravine; there they found a young Indian called Albert, who lived with one of the Mormons. Lee asked about the girls, and Albert answered that they'd come to him, begging him to hide them. He had done so, he said.
Then, walking to a spot where a stand of bushes and a fallen tree made a natural blind, he pulled the branches aside and showed the cowering girls to Lee and the Indians. Lee recognized them; Sarah and Mary Bailey, two of the prettiest girls among the emigrants; both had long black hair, large dark eyes, full lips, and perfect figures. Not even trying to escape, they looked up at him with desperation.
The chief, looking down at these two exceptionally lovely girls, grinned broadly. "Take off clothes," he ordered, pointing at them.
The girls looked at each other; they'd watched their companions being ruthlessly slaughtered, and their own terror was obvious. At the same time, taking courage from each other, they began removing their dresses. At their petticoats they stopped, but discarded these quickly at another word from the chief. Down to their underwear they paused yet again, and this time it was John Lee who gave the order. They took off the underwear and stood naked and trembling before Lee, the chief, and the other Piutes. Their bodies were similar, their legs long and shapely, their breasts high, firm, and softly rounded, their waists small; Sarah, the eldest, was somewhat more robustly built than the almost fragile and doll-like Mary. The look on the men's faces was not missed nor misunderstood by the two girls. Unlike the previous girl Lee had watched the Indians kill, they made no attempt to conceal themselves.
"Please don't kill us," Mary begged in a tiny voice. "Please, we'll do whatever you want..."
"You will, that is so," :Lee agreed. He gestured with his hand. "Come up here."
The girls hesitated; Albert grabbed Sarah by the arm and started dragging her up the slope. She didn't fight him, and Mary followed quickly behind her sister. When they reached the top, the chief grabbed Sarah's other arm and pulled her away from Albert, roughly enough to cause her to stagger toward him. With his other hand he jerked his loincloth aside. Then, laughing, he began to fondle Sarah's breasts with his hands.
Sarah closed her eyes, but she'd expected this; she stood passively, saying nothing, while Gray Hatchet ran his bloodstained hands all over her body. After a few moments he pushed her down on the ground, then knelt between her legs. Cooperatively, she spread them far apart. With little further preamble the chief moved up between her thighs and shoved his erection into her vagina. Sarah gasped and turned her head to the side, but she still made no protest. As Gray Hatchet moved his hips vigorously, she laid her hands against his sides.
Lee stood and watched them for a moment, then turned his gaze on Mary, who was staring wide-eyed as her sister was being raped. "Come here, girl," he ordered in a rough voice. Mary hesitated only an instant, then came to him. "On your knees," he commanded, and she did that, too.
Then he instructed her to unbutton his pants and extract, as he said, "his manhood." With trembling hands she obeyed. Once she'd exposed him she looked up at him again.
He put his hand on her head and pushed it toward his groin. "Put it in your mouth, girl," he commanded. "Use your tongue and lips to give me pleasure."
She stared; not being experienced, she'd never heard of anyone doing such a thing. She glanced toward her sister for guidance, but Sarah had her eyes closed as she laid passive, enduring Gray Hatchet's rape in silence.
Tentatively, Mary touched her tongue to the tip of Lee's semi-erect penis. She made a face, but, still in terror for her life--and evidently hoping that pleasing Lee would ensure her survival--she went on, slipping the head and then part of the shaft between her full lips. Frowning slightly, she worked at it with her tongue, as he'd ordered. He sighed and ran his fingers through her hair, almost affectionately.
Lee's action obviously gave Albert and the other Piute warrior ideas. Albert knelt beside Sarah's head and pulled his lioncloth aside, exposing an already-rock-hard erection. Sarah's eyes popped open as he pushed it against her lips. She looked confused, as if she didn't understand what he wanted. He told her to open her mouth; she obeyed and he stuffed his cock into it. Surprised, Sarah tried to pull her head back, but Albert grabbed her hair and held her fast. She rolled her eyes up to look at him, then began sucking at his cock with short, inexperienced strokes. Albert was a boy; under this kind of stimulation he couldn't last long, and within a couple of minutes he was spraying semen into her mouth. She choked on it, refused to swallow, and allowed it to run out over her cheek. Almost immediately the other Piute was at her face and cramming his cock into her mouth. She accepted it with an air of resignation--but by that time Gray Hatchet was shuddering in orgasm. After he rose from between her legs, the warrior drew his cock from her mouth and moved around to take the chief's place.
Lee, meanwhile, was taking more time with Mary. He allowed the teen-ager to suck him for quite a while before pulling back and instructing her to lie back on the grass. She did as he said, spreading her legs for him; as he pushed inside her she moaned and clutched at him as if in passion. Almost at the same moment, Lee gave a groan and the last Piute warrior gave voice to a cry as both reached their climaxes.
Quickly, Lee stood up and tucked himself back into his pants. "Now," he said, refusing to look down at Mary, "we have our business to finish..."
"No," Gray Hatchet protested. "No, these pretty ones, we should keep them."
Lee shook his head. "No. Everyone. Everyone means everyone. These two are no different."
The chief looked exasperated. "But these two..."
"You heard my words."
The two girls knew exactly what they were talking about, and both jumped to their feet. Sarah shrank back against the chief, their apparent advocate. Mary threw herself on Lee, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her body against his. "No, please, no," she begged. "No, I'll stay with you, I'll love you forever... please, please..."
Lee wrapped his arm around the middle of her slender back. "I believe you would," he said mildly.
She searched his eyes with hers; and, while she was doing that, he drew his knife and plunged it into her naked body, under her ribs on her left side, burying the blade deeply.
Her eyes flew wide open; she stared at his face with an expression of bewilderment. Slowly, she looked down at her side, where her blood was pumping out furiously, covering Lee's hand and the knife. Sarah screamed a protest; she was ignored.
"Oh, no," she sobbed. "No..."
Lee shook his head. "Just die, girl," he told her. Holding her tightly, he pulled the knife from her side, then immediately drove it back in between her ribs, under her breast. Mary gave a soft cry, raised her leg against his thigh, and clutched at his neck. As he extracted it, she laid her head on his shoulder; he pierced her side with it again, a little higher, behind the curve of her breast, and he buried the blade completely. She sagged in his grasp; he let her go and she crumpled to the ground where she lay twitching and jerking.
Crying and yelling something unintelligible, Sarah suddenly pulled away from the chief, trying to go to her dying sister. Gray Hatchet responded by swinging his tomahawk at her head; he hit her a glancing blow and she went sprawling to the ground. The Piute who'd accompanied the chief rolled her over; she wasn't dead, she wasn't even unconscious. She looked up at her tormentors with wild eyes while blood spread in her dark hair.
"This is the last one," Lee said, pointing down at her. "She must be killed."
The chief sighed deeply and knelt beside the girl. She turned her head toward him as he drew his knife. She said nothing, she merely watched as he raised the knife and hammered it down, driving the full lengh of the blade into her solar plexus. Sarah's body flexed upward against the blow, her legs kicking wildly. The chief yanked the blade out and began stabbing her over and over in her chest, his hand rising and falling rhythmically, the knife biting deeply into her breasts with each stroke. Sarah squirmed backwards, her fingers clutching at the dirt, as blood covered her chest. After just a moment, she stiffened, made an odd gurgling sound, and went limp. Once she'd stopped moving, Lee lifted Mary's head and used his knife to slit her throat, cutting so deeply he almost severed her head; she did not react at all. Understanding that Lee meant to make sure, Gray Hatchet stood over Sarah's body and hammered the top of her head once with his tomahawk, knocking a sizeable hole in her skull and sinking the head of his trademark axe into her brains. She did not react either.
Standing up, Lee surveyed the field. "It is done, the Lord's work is done," he said with
obvious satisfaction.